No Biting
by ThatLoyalHufflepuff
Summary: England wants France, and takes the lead in foreplay. Of course, something goes wrong and France overreacts while England's left hanging. UKFr, almost smut. Rated T for implications, but no sex. Human names used.


It was too much. How was Arthur meant to resist Francis, when he was just so gorgeous? There he was, skimming over a cookbook, hair tied up and his glasses perched on his nose. Did he know how well the black frames made his eyes stand out? Probably not. Keeping his eyes trained on the soft strands of hair that escaped the ponytail, the ones that rested on the back of his long neck, Arthur slowly walked up behind him, footsteps soft.

He reached out, hands settling on Francis' thin waist. He rested his chin on his shoulder, allowing his arms to snake round his waist, holding him close. Francis yelped softly in surprise, turning his head to look at Arthur. The Frenchman's fingertips crept up to Arthur's jaw, tilting his face up to gently press their lips together. He gave a tender smile, pulling away. "Bonjour."

"... Are you busy?"

"Not... Not really?"

"Good." Arthur released his waist, taking hold of his hips and turning him around. He raised his hand to Francis' face, sliding his glasses off and placing them on the kitchen counter behind his lover. Francis, guessing where this was going, rested his hands low on Arthur's waist, connecting their lips in a deep kiss. Their eyes slid closed as their lips glided over each other's, parting to allow their tongues to meet. A light moan escaped Francis' throat as Arthur stroked his tongue with his own, easily dominating the kiss. Of course, Francis fought back, only receive a frustrated grunt, and Arthur's leg shoved between his own. Oh, so this is how it was going to be? Well, that was fine with Francis.

Arthur's lips pulled away from his own, and Francis rested their foreheads together, their desperate pants for breath mixing together. Fingers squeezing into Francis' hips, Arthur moved to his jaw, lightly kissing where his stubble grew. He smirked, hearing the other whimper. He trailed his tongue down to the Frenchman's neck, licking at the skin. Kissing it gently, he felt the other's pulse beneath his skin, racing at his touches. His fingers slid up Francis' shirt, fingernails scraping against his skin.

Pulling him close, Arthur sank his teeth into Francis' neck, closing his eyes as he bit him. He jumped, receiving a loud scream instead of a pleasured gasp. Sure, he meant to surprise him, but why was Francis pushing him away?! Arthur let go, stepping back to the other side of the kitchen. "What?! What's wrong?!"

"You- You just bit me!" Francis' dark blue eyes were wide, his hands cupping the bite mark on his neck. "Oh my God why did you bite me?! I'm- I'm bleeding!" He screeched, practically running to the large mirror that hung in the hallway. Francis pulled the collar of his shirt away, scrutinising his neck. "Arthur!"

Rolling his eyes and sighing heavily, Arthur followed him. "What?!" As far as he could see, he hadn't even broken the skin, and Francis had had worse bite marks before. He _liked_ his neck being bitten, what was the issue?! Francis turned to face him, eyebrows pulling together in frustration. Arthur folded his arms glaring back at him.

"Don't just bite me like that! There has to be some sort of... Some sort of lead up!" Francis waved his hand as he spoke, turning back to the mirror.

"For God's sake, Francis. Man up! It's only a bite mark!"

"Only a bite mark, my eye! It's so deep! A little warning would have been nice!"

"You got your warning! I was kissing your neck, wasn't I?!"

"That was gentle and the bite was not!" Okay, maybe Francis had a point. Arthur tutted, stepping closer and turning towards Francis. He gently pressed his fingers to the bite mark, fingertips running over the dents in the skin. "Look, I won't do it again, okay? But it's not even bleeding... It'll be fine soon." He dropped his hand, walking into the kitchen to get Francis some ice. Scowling, he handed it over. Why did his seduction plans always backfire? He left Francis to fuss over his "wound", stomping into the bathroom. At least he still had his hand.


End file.
